


~My Life Without You~

by Kairat11



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, One Shot, POV Castiel, Some Fluff, Suicide Attempt, destiel au, just keep reading, so many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4781753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairat11/pseuds/Kairat11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn’t home. Dean? Where is Dean? It was too vast and empty; the room felt like a cage, impossible to escape. Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	~My Life Without You~

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> I went a tiny bit dark, but don't freak out by the suicide tag or the title. Just keep on reading and you'll see. Enjoy!

Cas’s eyes burned as he opened them; a light so bright robbed him of his sight. His bones felt rubbery and fractured a weight so heavy he couldn’t lift a finger. It was as if all of Earth’s gravity was concentrated on him. Beeping, a terrible constant beeping near his left ear, bit by bit drilled innumerable holes in his brain; each, dragging out a throb and driving him insane. Cas’s neck felt like a reinforced column, something enveloping it and choking his words. Water- his throat felt drier than soil unfit to produce life and his tongue was an anaconda dying of hunger; too big and heavy to move. The light overhead was a small sun boiling his eyes the longer they stared. His lips were as if prunes, wrinkled but cracked. Something trickled from them at his effort to stretch them; it was warm but it felt wretched on his skin.

Whispers, soft and conspiring, thick with an emotion his flesh despised. Cas felt goose bumps spread on his skin at every word; so many words. His ears ringed as if an old telephone lived inside them and his fingers itched to dig inside and quiet it down. _Where was he?_ The mattress was wrong, it wasn’t soft and it didn’t remember his shape. The smell, a horrible smell twisted his stomach; it jumped and coiled, inciting nausea. _This wasn’t home. Dean? Where is Dean?_ It was too vast and empty; the room felt like a cage, impossible to escape. _Dean_. Both of his hands were held down by two rocks and his feet were cold; he could feel the coat of snow around them, like a pair of socks. Murmurs, countless of murmurs plagued his foggy mind. Cas tasted bile rising in his throat; repulsion clenched his stomach mercilessly.

“They couldn’t do anything for him, he…his bones were cracked like a nut. God! His skin cut by them, like spears. It is too awful; he didn’t deserve that ending. They were so happy, so in love.”

“I don’t want to know anything else. I hope he didn’t suffer too much.”

Cas’s heart was quiet. _Why was his heart so quiet?_ He couldn’t hear it, not with the ringing and the whispers carving his brain. _Where am I?_ The smell of alcohol and anesthetics assaulted his nose. The clean and cold air was tainted by rotten and burn skin, by blood and death. “Dean,” the name rolled out of his swollen tongue clumsily. He loathed the way it sounded in his ears, like a foreign word. “Dean, _Dean_ ,” Cas’s heart was beginning to wake up from slumber; his chest heaving with urgent breaths. Images played in his mind like one of those old movie projectors. Laughter and warmth, shiny green eyes and hands entwined lovingly and then…then a loud screech, metal against metal, the smell of rubber bubbling to liquid and bones cracking.

His body twisted uncontrollably on the uncomfortable bed and he heard frantic voices. “Cas! Oh, my God, hurry and call the nurse,” he knew that voice. Cas’s body wasn’t his own and his mind was just observing; powerless. _Dean, Dean, where are you?_ He needed Dean, _where was his Dean?_ Green eyes, he saw a flash of green eyes. “Dean,” he whispered as hands pushed his body down against cool sheets. Beeping and voices, it was so loud. Something was creeping up his legs; claws, sharp claws dug into his flesh. Every hair on his body rose at the bruising touch. Cas’s heart was now a snail, slow and lazy.

“Mr. Winchester-Novak, can you hear me? Blink once for ‘yes’,” the voice talking sounded aged and firm, a tad kind as well. Cas didn’t know if he could do as the doctor asked him, but he would try. His eyelids moved slowly; a small fluttering of eyelashes sounding like a butterfly’s wings.

“Good, good…Castiel, can I call you that?” the doctor questioned; Cas didn’t like the condescending tone in his voice. Dean would have laughed at him if he were here. “Dean,” his mind was of only one thought; Cas needed to see him and make sure he is okay. _Why wasn’t his freckled beauty here, by his side?_ “Dean,” he mumbled with his heavy tongue.

“Cas,” his eyes quickly turned to look at the owner of the familiar voice; Cas’s neck wasn’t as cooperative. He felt relief at the sight of his best friend and family.

“Sam…Dean?” at the words Sam’s face broke like a plate hitting marble and Cas’s heart was another plate.

“Sam?” he didn’t care that his bones felt pulverized and his head spun as if a windmill during a tornado as he sat up. A grunt and a pesky whine ripped from his chest. His eyes were a bit more focused, but the white dots dancing around made it difficult to distinguish faces. Cas recognized three without any problem; Sam’s, Jess’s and Missouri’s, the three looking rather marred with gloom.

“Castiel, you need to lie down; your body suffered some trauma from the accident,” the urgency in the doctor’s voice gnawed at his patience; he didn’t want to hear anything concerning his health. The only thing he wanted to know was Dean’s whereabouts.

“Sam…where is Dean?” Cas saw the doctor lean in and mumble something to the young nurse, but he didn’t bother to hear it. “Sam,” his brother-in-law was imitating a flag pole; his feet cemented to the floor, immovable. His hazel eyes were bloodshot and puffy; his shoulders hunched and clothes rumpled. Cas’s eyes drifted from Sam to Jess and then to Missouri, the three looking much or less the same. He could see a dark angry cloud raining red over their heads. His hands clumsily reached his face; cold tight fingers freeing his eyes of disturbing apparitions. It stung- his fingers, the front of his hands and his palms. Cas ventured to touch around his face and discovered it also stung. His skin felt raw and itchy as if salt water bathed every inch. _Salt water?_ No- it was tears, _why was he crying?_

“Cas,” Sam said as he walked closer to the bed and then reached for his hands. Sam’s hands were like two blocks of ice, it caused a shiver to rake his body. _Oh no, no this isn’t good, don’t listen, and close your ears,_ a small wobbly voice pleaded but he flicked it away as if it was a fly.

“What Sam? Speak!” bile, everything tasted like biter green juice.

Cas ignored the pitiful looks flying his way from Jess and Missouri’s sweet faces. Pitch black painted the walls; suddenly the fluorescent lights weren’t bright enough. The cold air seeped inside his pores and slowly frosted his veins; instantly he was in the South Pole, naked and at the mercy of the vicious Antarctic winter.

“Cas, um… _Jesus_ , I,” Sam’s stammering voice thick with sorrow, paralyzed him. Jess walked towards them to stand next to her husband. The sight was a bear claw mauling his heart. He bit his tongue and his brain woke up. _No, walk away, hurry! Don’t ask, don’t remember_ , Cas wanted to reach inside his mind and tore that voice into irreparable pieces. His eyes fluttered closed, fighting the sea-mist clouding them. Sam placed his lukewarm palms on top of his frigid ones; those hands were the **_wrong_** hands, the voice and the scent were off, **_wrong_** _._ They didn’t belong with his, they weren’t Dean’s.

“Dean, he…,” Sam sighed, the puff of air a blizzard freezing his soul.

“Sam, if you want I can---,” Jess’s soft voice grated his nerves; his hands clenched the heavy blanket.

“No,” Sam’s reply was a resounding echo bouncing on the white walls of the silent room. He cleared his throat before continuing; Cas felt like a criminal waiting for his sentence. His skin prickled as if the air was made out of pointy needles.

“I don’t know how much you remember, but you guys were…hit by a truck…,” _No, no, no don’t listen; close your ears_ , the little voice begged frantically; a pathetic little thing. “By a drunk driver, um…it, it hit Dean’s side…,” Sam’s hands gripped his as teeth bit down on thin lips. Cas was as still as a statue; he didn’t stir, as if doing that would make him invisible. _Don’t listen to him_ , cried the little voice; tugging his attention away. “There…there was nothing they could do…he, uh, **_Dean died_** on impa---,”

Cas was in a dark forest surrounded by dead trees; the leaves arguing noisily, poking at his mind and making fun of him. He couldn’t see his feet but his nose picked-up the coppery smell of blood. _Blood_ \- he was walking on a road of blood. A lightning blue light shone upon him, revealing a bloody sea drowning everything scarlet. And then Cas saw him; _Dean_ , his Dean was in front of him, engulfed in a golden light. He looked ethereal; his eyes, malachite radiating peace. But this was **WRONG**! Cas’s voice wasn’t reaching him; this place was a soundless world where his voice couldn’t touch Dean. His feet refused to move; they were cold and…hard. A glance and with horror he realized why; they were coated in bronze, too heavy to walk.

Cas’s eyes snapped back up and Dean was still there; a sigh of relief ruffled the dry leaves and then Dean was vanishing like fog. Cas’s voice didn’t sound, his feet wouldn’t move, his arms couldn’t reach and his eyes refused to close. He didn’t want to see his Dean turning into a waterfall of crimson. _No, no, Dean! Dean, Beautiful don’t leave me_ , his voice was late; Dean couldn’t hear him anymore. _Dean! Dean, come back to me!_

Cas despised that light, blinding and out of place. Low voices, beeping and a somber cloak of silence bordering the air. “Dean,” he wanted to see his husband; Cas needed to see, touch and smell him.

“Shh, Castiel,” Missouri’s comforting voice was a dissonant noise in his ears. _I don’t want to hear anything. Dean, where is he?_ His eyes remained shut; pitying gazes were worse than knives to his guts.

“I want to see him.”

“Cas, I don’t thi---,” Sam’s concern was poison he didn’t want to drink.

“Now!” Cas didn’t care for sensitivities or good manners at the moment. A few heavy sighs and hurried footsteps broke the tenebrous shadows of silence. He felt a big hand on his arm and immediately followed its direction. Each effort to stand up was a hammer to his bones; everything swirled inelegantly in front of him, but strong arms held him firmly. The warm bodies flanking him, a tad of comfort he didn’t want. Silence- only alien sounds disrupted it and not familiar voices, for that he was glad. His feet were two blocks of lead; each step closer to the room in which Dean waited for him was heavier than the one before. Cas was dressed in an invisible black suit, yet, he felt as naked as the day he was born.

“Do you want company?” Sam asked whilst searching his face carefully. Cas shook his head and stars exploded; his body swayed and swift hands stayed him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Cas,” Jess was worried, but his eyes didn’t spare her a grateful glance.

“I want to be alone with him,” he rasped, each word sand paper skinning his throat. The hands holding him let go and another kindly opened the door. Death, the smell of defeat reigned supreme and he stumbled. So cold; it was freezing in the room his Love’s body rested soulless. A white sheet covered a most beloved body, but the soul Castiel worshiped tirelessly was forever gone. _Why? Why did you leave me?_ _Why did you go alone?_ **_Why couldn’t you wait for me? You selfish bastard!_** Each word shouted inside his head, revealed inch by inch of stone cold body. His hands were eager to touch and feel.

Not a single word floated out of his mouth; all of them swallowed by the black hole replacing his heart. Cas didn’t need to mourn, after all, the dead didn’t mourn. His eyes shut; he didn’t want to remember his gorgeous husband lifeless. Torn lips dropped an expiating kiss on bluish cold ones and then, the sheet once again cloaked the shell Dean had worn throughout his life. Languid steps took him out of the room; not once looking back. Once out, he walked back to his room, ignoring his family trailing after him.

“Cas wait,” poor Sam, always so caring, even now he is more worried about Cas than himself; Sam who lost a brother, best friend and a parent. Yet, right now, Cas couldn’t care for someone else’s pain. He no longer had a heart to filter his feelings.

“I want to be alone,” it wasn’t a request; he didn’t want well-meaning, empty words of comfort. Everyone will go home and they won’t be alone, except him. And the thought bound and bleed him as if barren thorns.

“Castiel…,” Missouri’s voice faded in his mind like a dreamed memory; he needed silence.

Cas walked to the wide pane window; the sky looked furious, a raging storm ready to release hell. Immense gray clouds, pregnant with droplets of water waited patiently. They held onto the water like Cas’s eyes held onto his tears. He felt hollow; his soul was dead the moment Dean’s soul left his body. Cas hadn’t realized it because his mind had blocked it. Cries, thousands upon thousands of cries navigated his heart; their echo a wild beast wounding his skin, its claws like spears piercing the wind. Trembling fingers intercepted the bitter streams staining bruised cheeks and as he erased them from existence, the rain fell.

He turned around and his eyes landed on a blue bag on top of the wooden table. If he could smile he would; his family was incomparable. His now lighter feet reached the table and steady hands grabbed the bag, and then he walked to the bathroom. Swift but still clumsy hands dressed his aching body; he ran long fingers through mussy hair. The action triggered a rather steamy memory of Dean curling his fingers tightly in his hair, as Cas rammed into his wet heat. But Dean was dead and _he_ was also dead, he couldn’t feel anything. Cas peeked through a half opened door and after making sure no one was around, he made his escape. He only saw a few nurses in the hallway, but they were too busy with paperwork and phone calls to notice him. Cas couldn’t look back, he wouldn’t. He had been happy; he had a great life and a beautiful family, but that life wasn’t his anymore. That life was a faraway dream and he had to say goodbye to it.

The rain fell on his body like autumn leaves; light and gentle, in a graceful dance. He was floating; his feet no longer rooted to the ground. Cas prayed his transgression didn’t separate him from Dean for too long. A life without his Beloved wasn’t worth living; he knew happiness like he had known, only knocked at someone’s door once. Thus he jumped; his arms wide opened like useless wings. The wind ruffling his hair and digging in his flesh felt liberating; his eyes drifted shut in resignation and his heart taped danced in an exhilarating rhythm. This wasn’t his end, it was his beginning. Dean waited for him; he could see him, _so beautiful_ \- a welcoming smile and opened arms. He was finally, _finally_ ho---  

Right before he hit concrete, a pair of firm hands flew him up; up so high he couldn’t see the ground.

“Cas, _Cas babe_ , hey, shh,” he knew that voice; _God, is this a dream?_ Tense muscles, a desert dry throat, uncomfortable sweat damping his clothes and oxygen so heavy, it felt as if he was breathing in honey. Darkness, it was still pitch black, _was he dead?_

“Cas angel, open your eyes,” his body quaked and his eyes were overflowing dams as they opened and settled upon a precious freckled face. Instantly, warm arms wrapped his body in a strong embrace and his own did the same.

“Dean, _Dean_! Oh, thank God!” His Love was alive; his happiness hasn’t ended. Shallow breaths heaved Cas’s chest as his face buried in his husband’s neck. Dean was warm again, he was breathing and moving.

“Cas, what ha---,”

“ _Dean_ , you have to promise me that you won’t leave me. Promise me that you won’t leave me behind,” Cas knew he sounded crazy, but he needed to hear those words. With a colossal effort, he peeled his body from Dean’s to look him in the eyes, to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. His husband’s confused face was a breath of new life and his favorite view.

“Cas, what is this ab---,”

“ _Promise me_ ,” Cas insisted; though he was aware it was a ridiculous and impossible promise to keep, regardless, he needed those words to soothe his wounded heart.

“I, uh, I promise,” Dean’s voice was lighter than a whisper; a delicate thing, a little blue jay joyfully singing to Cas’s soul.

 _Dean was alive_ his soul sing songed, as lips crashed against each other, like wandering waves against the shore line. Cas knew he couldn’t keep Dean to his promise, but he was determined to relish in every second they share together.

Happiness is a fickle bird; free to enjoy and not to be caged.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to read your feedback, so don't be shy.  
> Kudos and comments are always welcome. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
